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The once-white leather cover of the journal has been splashed with mud and blood, the wear and tear of its owner's lifestyle has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark.

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Orgrimmar

I will kill Mal'tar. I will kill him. Damn him. Light forsake him. Fel take him. Damn him damn him damn him!

He will pay for what he has done to Nic. Poison... A bomb... I... I gave it to him.

Damn him. Damn me.

I should have seen that something was not right. I should have... Damn.

Light help me...

Aranthil. I need to find Aranthil. Where is he?

(Tears blur the rest of the page)

Oh Nic... What am I going to do...?

The woman with the dark brown hair fell backwards and rolled across the ground, coming to rest on her back after the orc charged. She could taste dirt in her mouth and wiped her lips with the back of her gloved hand. Her black leather armor was covered in Durotar dust and there was a smear of dirt across one cheek.

“Again!” someone bellowed.

She dragged herself up and moved back to the mark. The orc charged, impacted, and she hit the ground, rolling out of control once more, as if a child had thrown a rag doll in a tantrum.

“Use the momentum to aid you! Again!”

And again, and again, and again…

Each time it got a little better. As the days past, and the trainer barked out instructions she learned how to control the momentum, use it to her advantage. She found herself able to stop the uncontrolled tumbling. With that came the ability to get her feet under her when she stopped. Finally, she was able to take the hit, tumble away, get her feet underneath her and spring up and attack after being sent flying backwards by a hard blow.

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

I have learned how to fall. Sounds rather simple and idiotic, I know, but in my experience, knowing how to fall without hurting yourself is vital to survival. Knowing how to take the momentum from a blow and being able to tumble away and end up on my feet is equally important.

It is something that I wish I knew how to do when I faced the ogre, but live and learn.

Now we shall see how well my training has worked out in the real world and not in a controlled area. I know it will take some concentration and practice, it has not yet become second nature to me, but it will come.

I have some people who seem to be amicable. They seemed a little untrusting of rogues, and really, who can blame them. A lot of my counterparts have very bad reputations but I assured them that I wasn’t going to steal their coin or otherwise cause trouble. One was particularly concerned about gossip—apparently someone she knows has quite the loose tongue. I told her that I can keep secrets—my line of work depends on it.

One mentioned that there is something that she may ask me to do. She didn’t elaborate, but when she does, I will decide whether or not it is something that I will do. Even as a rogue, I feel I have to have some scruples.

Speaking of my work, I completed the final four tests. I am done for now, waiting to see where else I will be sent and what else they will need me to retrieve. Reconnaissance is never dull, particularly when you don’t want anyone to know that you have been there. Other times, I am given full reign to head in and take out whatever I can.

For now, I am waiting in Orgrimmar to see what comes my way. Quiet for now, a peaceful spot, and an opportunity to think.

(This is unsigned)

Journal of Karamia

Such bliss...I can hardly believe it...spending the night with Tyrael was so special. Waking up with his arms around me was heavenly. He is so stressed...I am sure everyone wonders where we are...but I turned off the hearthstones. Maybe I am selfish..but I wanted him all to myself ...at least for a little while.

I am hoping just relaxing and putting things out of his mind will help him. The Fellowship means a lot to him. If they only realized how much they all mean to him. He wants to protect everyone. He may be blunt..but he does know what he is doing. It breaks my heart to see him so worried. He ever worries about Ikthael.

Something is bugging me and I cannot put my finger on it. Some of the people in the Fellowship seem...a bit standoffish...like they are just using the Fellowship as a front.
I do not know if they take the code seriously. I know I do and Tyrael does...as far as I know. I believe Kel'Tira does and Nic.

Dalen and Lilli do as well. Malt'ar...I am very uncomfortable around. He is so mysterious. Aranthil is such a wonderful healer, I hope we can find a cure for his problem. I think that Viragona is helping him. I do not know much about her...strange how she stays much to herself. I guess being a warlock makes a person a bit reclusive.

We have new members all the time, I do not know them well yet. I do believe Quill is strong with the code. I do hope we can all learn to work together. That death knight will be a problem.

(Ikthael Brightblades semi-horrible journal! hes gotten better recently after watching lilli's writing!)

So much intrigue, romance perhaps! and of course the allure of gold. Oh but I'm in quite the pickle, after talking with several of lillis family members im rather ashamed to say I'm more then likely to die soon. But I will fight on! even now I travel with lilli to places unknown, lands that hold secrets and mystery!!! But it should prove interesting, lets hope they dont find me before our plan is completed!

The once-white leather cover of the journal has been splashed with mud and blood, the wear and tear of its owner's lifestyle has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark.

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Orgrimmar

Oh Light... I have been out of my mind all day. Wyndd and An'giel... Everyone is looking for either Malt'ar or Aranthil. It took Tyrael yelling at me to really get me back into reality.

"Kel'tira!" He said, "Get a hold of yourself. Relax. Deep breaths. Meditate. Nicias is going to be just fine." I wonder, sometimes, if Tyrael has any idea of the effect he can have on people.

Nic is still laying there, at least he is unconcious now, and we cannot find Aranthil. They have traced him to the Eastern Kingdoms, but that is all. Tyrael, Dalen, and Auxilia went to track him. I can only pray they find him in time...

It was so hard to leave Nic this morning, however much I knew I needed to. What was even harder, and for reasons I cannot even begin to explain, was coming back to him.

(Scribbled in the margins are the words: What if I came back to his body?)

I am afraid. Afraid he will die. Afraid he will blame me.

Strength...

The code... Think about the code, Kel.

Loyalty. Valor. Strength. Piety.

Loyalty to Nic and the Fellowship. Valor to draw strength from. Strength to keep working to save him. Piety for my faith in the Fellowship.

I will press on.

I will be strong.

I am a Sunblaze.

Glory and strength. Hope and faith.

Light guard Nic... And lend me the strength to help him.

A new tome, this one black leather bound and sealed with silver gilded pages. There is no trace of the owner's name and each word is written in scarlet ink.

I am not who I say I am. I am not who you think I am. Sometimes, I'm not even certain what I will become, but I will not perish in vain.

He looks like him.

This man who has come out of no where. I grabbed his face in disbelief. A patient idiot who let me received what he deserved, and I smashed my head into his own out of sheer rage that he was born looking so much like the one I lost.

He speaks in the same manner to, of which I complained loudly to him. This soft-spoken and patient voice, tainted by death, gives off this meek aura, as if he might just die out there in the real world.

I want to destroy him for his transgression of existing, not because his is an unnatural one, but because I cannot stand the fact that he automatically loosens my tongue a bit too easily, just like my lost ally.

I challenged him the first day we met. I told him that I will gain in prowess and defeat him.

And today, I did. But he did something that the lost one never could.

He defeated me.

Perhaps I lack training. Perhaps I am more susceptible to Death's touch than I realized. I cleansed my wound and checked myself over, but plate serves me well in combat. I enjoy his company, for all of his idiocy. What a fool, fighting with a helm blinding his sight.

The disgusting one finally took the first step. I did not have to bait him into an illicit strike and slay him in self defense. No, he seems to have made an attempt on Nicias's life. But I fear that because of this, I have revealed too much about myself. The way I think, the heavy suspicions I have. The reasons as to why I think I do will remain shrouded for now... mostly because a handful of them believe I cut my way out of my mother's womb with her own rib.

Laughable. I'm too tired to laugh.

I've worked myself nearly to the bone. Maybe the unborn will be purged from my body from the stress.

He would hate me for that. But he wanted the child more than I. Maybe he would tend to its spirit.

When are souls made? At birth? At conception?

I speak to no one of my illness. I do not even hint about it. I need to send the alchemist more herbs, but the poison, I will feed to another.

I wait to observe the rogue's next move. I wait to see the king's play. Perhaps they will strike each other down, but at least the king has shown remorse and a semblance of intelligence I did not believe he held. Maybe he's just as socially retarded as I am, but lacks the finesse and presence of mind I keep at all times, stirring eternally beneath my insanity.

Maybe.

I am sorry I haven't been to your grave for so long. I will be there by the morrow's end if all falls into place.

Did you know I still take afternoon to late evening naps?

I still hate the water...

I also still fall to tears too easily because of your absence from my life.

What am I going to do...?

[Unsigned]

Plain, yet sleak black leather binds these pages marked in simple ink together, and no engravings to show it as anything but an average tome are to be seen. The only notable difference would be the bookmark, a silver thread with an ornate pendant lies between the pages to mark where the writer last stopped.

For who I was, I should mourn.. Consider this an insult. For what I was.. I embrace the power that comes with such a fate.

And the chance at redemption along with it.

I have been dead for some time, or so it seems, though my memories of the time that passed are unclear, or they elude me fully. Where was I durring all that time? For it, my body shows little to no signs of true decay. It remains intact, with only a few scars I don't recall receiving.. It is whole, complete..

It seems fresh. I shall keep it this way for as long as I am able.. If anything, I do not wish to reek of death more so than I already do, though I can't say I can smell it myself.

Things surrounding my rebirth make little sense.. They lead me to believe my memories have been tampered with, which with the power my creator held before his passing.. Does not seem impossible. Whatever it be, I haven been gifted a second chance, and though it hurts what pride I hold onto to do so.. I keep on living.

She asked me today.. Why I haven't destroyed myself, made me realize something too during our test of strength.. I carry far too much shame for this gift, I have hidden my face because of it and, for it, I have been dishonored by my first defeat in a long while. But I would never speak of this burden I carry..

I made amends for it, but none the less.. She bested me once.

It shall not happen again. Nor shall I hide for what shame it may bring me, or the name I once carried, if I cannot accept what I have become, how can I expect others too?

But, some have.. For whatever reasons, I have been offered an alliance with the members of this.. Fellowship. Chancing upon that stone was a blessing in itself, though I do not believe the Light was behind it. It was hers, though..

I digress.

For whatever reasons I will remain in this group, be it a sense of humanity at having companionship, or knowing I am welcomed by at least a few of those who are considered living.. I will give my blade, and fight for it's members..

For fighting is all I am good for. I cannot escape these urges. I was created to kill, and lust for it, and that is something I cannot deny. The sheer bliss of it all, I wouldn't either. One addiction, to the next, I would pray I not be lost to these needs, but even in life I was never one to.

I doubt they would even be heard...

Varus

“Light give him strength that he may return to us as he was before…” Varus muttered slowly, chanting out a low series of prayers given to him in a Libram by the Argent Crusade. He had his hands over Nicias’ pallid body as fever and sweat gripped him, Varus poured the Light into the Avenger of the Fellowship. ‘I will not let him die, not when he has yet more to do in this world…’ Varus thought to himself as he chanted, his lips moving slowly and confidently as sweat dripped from his brow and his muscles tensed with the strain of several hours of healing. He would not quit, he would not give in.

A plain red leather binds the tome that Varus uses as a journal, it seems slightly worn and depicts the image of the dawn on the front cover.

Tyrael sent word to me through the Crusade to go to Orgrimmar to help a friend, several of my comrades in the Crusade wished to join me but I said no, this was a matter for the Fellowship alone. They understood yet wished me luck, passing on their blessings as I left, truly I feel at home in the Crusade, I can count among my closest comrades humans and dwarves something I would never have believed possible months and even weeks ago! Are we so alone out in the world? Must the Horde constantly do battle with the Alliance when enemies such as the Scourge, the Twilight’s Hammer, the Old Gods, The Burning Legion exist?

But I must digress, there is work to be done on Nicias, I believe I have stabilized his condition, making me feel as if I am partially successful yet at the same time stabilizing his condition does nothing. Mia was with me earlier as was Kel’tira hovering and watching, her face gave away how much she cared for Nicias and pushed me to work harder. I will not fail to save him. I cannot fail.

Light give me strength.

Tyrael

The handwriting is shaky as if written while on the move.

I write this as I travel through the Plaguelands in search of Aranthil, the paladin who is said to be able to heal Nicias and yet I have not found him. The others are searching as well while Varus and Mia seek to keep Nic alive. I should have seen this coming and yet I did not! I thought I had Malt’ar on a tight enough leash and yet all I have succeeded in doing is bringing him closer to his goal… Damnit all!

If only I had been smarter, wiser yet I was not, damn this thing with Tai and damn this thing with Malt’ar… And yet here presents a solution to all our troubles with one fell swoop. I should not even consider it yet I do for both men deserve nothing but death and the darkness of the Void. I shall think on this more but for now I must get to Arathi, it seems Auxilia has found a trail that might lead to Aranthil.

I can only hope it is true.

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

Today has been an interesting day…

One member of the Fellowship was poisoned and asked for one of the Fellowship’s healers who had gone missing. While tracking down the missing healer, another member fell victim to a curse by a warlock. The healer that I helped to track down is also—well, I am not entirely certain what happened with him but it isn’t good since is involves aforementioned warlock and slavery.

I feel empathy for anyone being held by the warlock we met in Stromgarde. She appeared to me as callous, uncaring, and wholly unpleasant, but did promise to send Aran to Orgrimmar to help Nicias. Apparently she kept her word because Tyreal mentioned that Aran did show up. What happened after that, I do not know because I was in Silvermoon with Lillisarei at the time. While I can certainly appreciate the warlock keeping her word on the matter, I cannot fathom the idea of enslaving someone like that.

Hard life lesson: There are nasty people out there.

But back to curses—Lillisarei is cursed to sleep until her true love comes. In Artahi, she spoke to me about a man and has bid me to keep him secret. I will track him down and hopefully he will agree to go to Silvermoon. I am not certain if that is who her true love is because if I have had any experience with love, I cannot remember it. And well, I am not her.

I have burned a few favors in this endeavor. Some were owed to me and some are now favors that I owe to others. We’ll see where this ends up taking me.

I am not entirely certain what I have walked into with this Fellowship, but it certainly isn’t going to be dull.

(This is unsigned.)

journal entry-Aranthil

I have healed the one warrior of the fellowship known as Nicias. He is rather lucky that the poison was meant to slowly kill him painfully. If it was a fast poison then he would have been dead. As I left the one known as Tyreal said he would free me. Part of me grew hopeful, I do not know why. I serve my master willingly. She is my God, she controls my life. I live or die by her command. I...will....serve.
As this warrior threatened my master I told him that if he so much as lay a finger on her that I would crush him. He just looked at me. I saw the pity in those eyes, and I hated it. I do not need pity! I serve the master! All who stand in her way I shall crush!

(later entry)
The master and I have found a new place, it is remote. I stay ever vigilant, yet she tells me to relax. She said she could have a demon guard us. I do not feel satisfied with that. She almost perished while I was away. I will never leave her side. I will always have one hand on my sword, one hand always at the ready.
As we sat by the fire she asked me to remove my armor and relax. I refused, stating I wanted to be always diligent. She then ordered me too. As I removed my armor, my body felt a lot lighter, and not just physically. I was indeed relaxing, as my master would call it. I still keep an ever vigilant eye on the door, watching and waiting. Yet as I do this she sits on my lap and teases my flesh. She makes it rather difficult to concentrate on protecting her sometimes.

Nicias-
I awoke to tyreal over me. Nay, awoke is not the right word, I was awake the whole time, I heard their voices, sometimes. I had heard the cries of my beloved next to me. As I lay there listening, the poison worked its way through my body. It caused intense pain constantly. I screamed in my head, yet my mouth never moved. My body just lay still. Time seemed to slow, seconds seemed like hours and minutes turned into days. Every second I was in excruciating pain. At one point I had even wish I died, just to make it stop. But then I thought of Kel. I..I would not leave her. She said she was alone before me, and I knew I would not leave her alone. Never again would she ever be alone.

As time passed, the pain increased. I felt as if I was burning alive, yet the fire woul never go out. I felt the pain of bones being crushed, I felt the pain of being sliced up and down, and I felt the full agony of losing kel. I had strange dreams, dreams of kel and my brother. I dreamt that my brother killed her, and as she lay in my arms, I could do nothing but watch her bleed out, her life blood pouring onto me. All this caused me to scream in my head, yet my mouth never moved. The pain was real, and the dreams I had, they hurt even worse. Yet suddenly the pain stopped, and I felt it leave me. I..I was happy, so happy. I then slowly began to open my eyes. The light, even though it was dim was blinding.

I put my hand over my eyes, and I saw Tyreal next to me. A look of relief on his face. I slowly propped myself up, looking around for kel.
"Where...kel?" I managed to say very hoarsely.
"She is resting friend, as soon as she told me what had happened I told her I would find Aranthil for her. She then never left your side. She stayed up, never sleeping for the past two days. She is resting though, completely exhausted."
"Stubborn as always I see" I said smiling, and even managed a weak laugh. Tyreal then pulled out a flask of water and I drank it all greedily. I had not eaten or drank in days! I then felt completely exhausted myself.
"I...I shall rest as well. I feel very weak."
"Then rest my friend." Tyreal replied. I nodded and thanked him. I then fell right into a deep sleep and was happy to know that I was alive, and I would be back with Kel. The dreams I had that night were happy, and some of the best I had ever had.

Journal of Karamia

The demons in the Blasted Lands have never seen such fury, I blast through them with the Light's vengeance. My fury fed by anger...mostly at myself...for falling yet again to false promises. When will I learn...the lies that are told...simply to please the flesh...are not to be believed. My heart grows cold...a part of me yearns for his touch...wants to believe him...needs to hear his voice...but his trips to other places without me... lead me to believe he has another distracting him. He cannot be true to me...my heart aches to think of him with someone else. I will let him go...he is not ready to devote himself to anyone.

In anger I have shut off the stone...the Fellowship will survive without me...the will to survive has driven me into Outland. I must be strong...I must learn to not only heal, but to deal the vengeance of the Light. They squabble amongst themselves...pairing up and surviving...I am alone again. Perhaps this is meant to be...maybe the inner strength I need can only be found this way.

And yet...they worked together to find a cure for Nic...hunting down Aranthil to give Nic the healing only the most talented of healers can do. I will never be as great as he is...strong in the Light and faithful. But I fear for him...he is aligned with a warlock!! How is this possible? He should be burying his axe in her flesh and burning her corpse!

I have never trusted warlocks...very few deserve respect or honor. Poor Lilli lies in her bed asleep, hopefully her child survives this curse. Ikthael...my how you have surprised me...sitting by her side and stroking her hair. I thought I saw tears in his eyes...he actually cares for her!

I will search for this Viragona Blackthorn...I have not heard from my sources...whoever she is...it is buried deep. How I hate politics!! Someone she knows has kept her secret and hides her crimes...undoubtably some noble who does not want the disgrace to visit the House. I suspect she has given a false name to get into the Fellowship. I have a way...however to discover her secret...if only I could share it with someone...but I trust no one now...I am truly alone.

Day 15 of the Month of renewal

Such fools!! Such utter none sense! I do my share of helping...granted...I use them more than they use me...but now that foolish little mage has found my secret and will most likely spoil my plans.

I need to find someone to end her...before she wakes...I am so close to getting my ultimate goal...I must work to get into Outland...there are many demons there for me to subdue.

Aranthil confuses me...he is willing to stay with me even as the Fellowship is hunting me. I am amazed my binding is so strong. He told me he was willing even before I bound him? I confess I find it hard to believe...but his warmth and devotion touches my heart. I have never known anyone so willing to be with me...what is he trying to do? I am wary of his motives..perhaps he is seeking to end me when I trust him enough? I must test his resolve...I will see if the bond is true and make him do something totally against his very nature.

A new tome, this one black leather bound and sealed with silver gilded pages. There is no trace of the owner's name and each word is written in scarlet ink.

I am not who I say I am. I am not who you think I am. Sometimes, I'm not even certain what I will become, but I will not perish in vain.

I hate how much they sound the same. Not in voice, but in tone... The things that he says usually keep me calm and amused, but he found one of many triggers to my rage. Insulted, I went to calm down. And when he returned, he furthered his insult by mocking me. Of all the things he could have said!

He is no Keladryn. He never will be. So, I told him everything he wished to hear. And how silently he seethed.

The folly of my actions reflect with a clarity I wished I could possess at all times. For, I soon sought comfort from Keladryn's grave, only to find it barren. The soil upturned, there was no body to be found. I mourned for the fact that the one remaining source of comfort I could find in this world was stolen from me. I would tally this up to the rogue's attempts, but I would figure I am still low on his list of victims. His brother and future sister-in-law yet remain.

I could be wrong.

I heard something over the guildstone when the dead one returned, or rather, was drawn to my location. Something dark troubles him, something my Light can only just reach. And, so, I concentrated on this man, once again.

We have a pact. I do not know if it has already been broken or not, my temper will always be a problem.

Perhaps that is so with the young assassin and the alchemist. My opinion of the woman dropped faster than a stone in calm water. I understand well my situation, but for someone who knew how to protect herself and failed to do so... And to procreate with an imbecile such as that?

No, I do not pity her. My fondest wish is for the curse to render her child stillborn. Not out of hatred, but because I cannot even begin to imagine how two naive children can raise a child. I look forward to the struggles they will soon be put through... if everything I have heard from the king is not a lie, they will suffer greatly. And I will smile.

For now, progress is being made.

But I need to know... More.

[Unsigned]

Journal of Karamia

How sad it is, I can tell a stranger how I feel, but I cannot tell Tyrael. I know there is a part of me that wants to run to him and just, hold him. But I can't do it. My own needs are to selfish. Is it too much to ask for a guy to at least say I am the only one. And then stick to that?

Why am I so suspicious? The hunter makes a good point, but I cannot stop feeling that Tyrael is not ready to settle down. He spreads himself so thin, trying to do everything. He does not have time for me. Or maybe I ask too much?

I am weak still, it makes no sense. I can bring down several demons all trying to kill me, I can knock down an Ogre that outweighs me by tons. Why can't I be strong enough to quell my own insecurity? He has so much responsibility, I am only making it harder for him. I need to stand on my own so I do not bring him down with my needs.

I will help him as much as I can, if he needs anything he only needs to ask. Maybe he will see how much I can be there for him without bogging him down. I gave him space to find himself and to get to where he wants to be. I pray he won't leave me behind. The thought scares me more than I can ever imagine.

(water marks the page and blurs a few spots, but it is blotted away)

Aseria Sunblade

A red tome, bound by a single gold piece of rope, rests on a table. A name is written in golden ink upon the front cover, Aseria Sunblade

Inside, words written neatly and quickly in black ink are printed on the first of the many yellow pages, it would be quite clear that who ever this person was, they were new

Well...I can't say it was the most exciting conversation I ever had with my sister....everyday her illness gets worse, I worry for her to much, but it can't be helped, I need to move on, like she wants me to. I heard about this...'Rising Sun Fellowship', seems rather interesting, so I'm slinging my pack over my shoulder and throwing my lot with them. Lia says it can be a new door that has been opened for me, haha, yea...

Knowing me...and my obsession with fire magic, this could go rather flimsy, but it's to early to say how things will go. I'll train hard and strong, I will make my older sister proud before her time comes, I will become as strong as her; I KNOW I CAN!. All in due time, she has plenty of time left, for that I can hope is certain, I really want her to watch me grow into an achieved Mage.

I guess I should be thanking her for pushing me, giving me the nudge that I obviously needed to stop worrying about her and think about myself...yea, that's how I see it. In any case, I guess I shall see how this goes, maybe I can offer my true skills to this 'Fellowship' one day, that will be fun!

Welp, this was my first entry into this journal, now it's time to go find my true potential!

Tallisar Flameweaver

(A white book with crimson floral designs and gold trim. The writing inside is messy and cramped, but purely in Thalassian.)

The Magister has declared me fit to adventure out on my own! I told my father I was ahead of my fellow magi, but he did not believe me. I certainly showed him! Though, I think the Magister may have sent me away simply out of fear for what I might do otherwise. That one day on the range, for fireball practice... I was not about to let some Commoner-child show me up with a fancy cork-screw fireball! If anyone should be blamed for damage I caused, it should be that damned scumbag with his show-off magic! Fire magic is about brute strength, there is no finesse required. Hopefully that brat learned something from my 'demonstration'.

Father, ignorant of my incident, was proud of my early graduation. He recommended a group called the "Rising Sun Fellowship" to me, so that at the very least, I might not be adventuring on my own. On second thought, maybe he does know about that incident, and wants to ensure that I won't kill myself on accident... Or that at least if I do, there will be people around to inform him. Why couldn't he just tell me this up front? Damn him. Anyway. I wear the Fellowship's colors now, and I follow their code of duty. I've met a few of the other members. What can I say about them? Well... At least they aren't commoners. I don't think I could stand it if that mage was a commoner.

Undead, demons, beasts, bandits and scoundrels will fall before my fire! I've begun to teach myself some swordsmanship too, in case my fire fails me against one foe or another. I will not be caught offguard by any foe! If anyone is to tell my father about my sudden retirement from adventuring, it shall be me, when I have seen all there is to see. I'll have souvenirs and tales for my siblings, and gold enough to return my family's name to recognition. Father will be honestly proud, Mother will actually speak to me, Brother will no longer be embarrassed to be related to me, and Sister will no longer be ashamed by her magic-obsessed family. I'll show them all for doubting me!

The leather cover is black, it appears to have been intentionally dyed, for the inside cover is still a dull white. The wear and tear of its owner's lifestyle has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark.

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Orgrimmar

I saw Nic last night, really saw him. I slapped him, which is perhaps not something he deserved, but I am not sorry. I was so scared... Afraid I would never hear his voice...

But he is alive, and whole, and I swear by the Light, I will never let him go.

We are to be married Sunday!

Hopefully Mia will preside over the ceremony, I would like to hold the wedding somewhere in Eversong, or another equally beautiful place. I have not told my family, nor will I. They... They would not care. The only one who would have cared is Alaria, and she is gone.

(A small handful of blue, pink, red, and purple flowers are pressed into the pages)

But Nic... He and I... Married!

I am so happy. So very happy.

LATER:

Northrend is beautiful, or what I have seen of it is. Even while the Horde and Alliance fight over the place, and the Scourge's presence casts a dark pall over the place, the tundra is wonderful. I love the snow, the cold air. It is a far cry from Outland, and I am glad of that.

Jintha’Alor loomed, the ancient walls covered in vines and weathered with time. The troll walked it normal patrol route, moving with a casual grace that belied his tall, hunched form. As he past, a shadow shifted in a corner then leapt up onto a wall before slipping around a fallen stone block. The putrid smell of a small cauldron boiling blood that was being tended by a witch doctor reached the figure’s nose; it only added to the corrupted odor that Jintha’Alor held.

Another troll, walking down a set of stairs stopped as he was dazed by a blow to the back of the head. The shadow slipped past him and moved down a long grassy corridor. There, in a crumbling alcove guarded by a pair of Vilebranch trolls were the cages that held the Raventusk prisoners.

One guard went slack as the shadow passed by, sapping him. The other guard, while waiting for a response from him, turned curiously to see why he wasn’t answering. The shadow struck, driving a pair of blades deep into the troll's back and dropping him to the ground. Slipping back behind the other troll, the blades drove deep into his dazed body and he too, fell.

The primitive locks on the cage were no match and were open in a matter of moments. A heavy sack was dropped onto the ground with a clunk and the Raventusk trolls reached inside and pulled out axes before starting the long trek down, cutting their way through the trolls with the help of the figure that slipped alongside them, invisible to the Vilebranch except for when it was all too late.

At the bottom, they parted ways. The shadow moved out from Jintha’Alor before reaching up and pulling off the hood and mask, and running a hand over her brown hair pulled back into a pony tail. She spared the crumbling city in the distance an unreadable look before moving away.

(New entry in a plain brown leather journal)

The Fellowship and its interpersonal relations are interesting. I suppose that is because I am still a bit of an outsider looking in. It isn’t that they are not friendly; it is just that I am still feeling out what my place is with them. I am slowly meeting more and more members, putting names and faces to voices heard over the stone.

At least if I disappear there will be people who will hopefully wonder what happened to me. It is a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

The stone for communication is nice, but it is a constant source of consternation for me; more than once it has gone off at a bad time. Now I usually keep off, wrapped in some pieces of wool cloth and sitting in the middle of my bag. When I am out the field, my life depends upon on my ability to keep silent. I do my best to slip in and out of area making as little fuss as possible.

Guards tend to get very upset when they find dead bodies.

The name Jintha’Alor actually has a rather nice ring to it. Too bad it is a rather vile place filled with Vilebranch trolls. If there was ever an appropriate name for something, I think this was it—vile summed them up quite well. I did not owe any favors there but had an opportunity to pay it forward. I was apprehensive about going to Raventusk Village to speak with the trolls and I am not certain why. I suppose that it is just another forgotten piece of my former life.

(This is unsigned.)

The leather cover is black, it appears to have been intentionally dyed, for the inside cover is still a dull white. The wear and tear of its owner's lifestyle has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark.


A slip of parchment written in a shaky hand unlike the rest of the book is tucked into the pages, it appears to be a list.

Alaria.

Kara.

Traly.

Keladryn.